


Home isn't a place

by spectaclesandbooks



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Gay, I Will Go Down With This Ship, M/M, Prince Lance - Freeform, Royalty AU, Slow Burn, broganes, i love them, i love these boys, klance, texan keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:45:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9680072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectaclesandbooks/pseuds/spectaclesandbooks
Summary: When the Galra threaten the life of Prince Lance of Altea, Queen Allura sends him away overseas until it is safe for him to return. Lance finds himself on a ranch in Texas, his only companion a grumpy boy named Keith. The Prince must now learn to get along with him while he struggles to find a way home. But what makes a place home, anyway?Inspired by a Tumblr post





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first (published) fic for this fandom! I've been part of it for so long, but I've never written anything I've wanted to publish until now, so here, have this mess. (thanks to my fave Nicole for the title and cheerleading me on ;) )

Altea was a small but proud country, an isolated island a few hundred miles east of Uruguay in the Atlantic Ocean. Though small, it had vast resources of cotton, silk, sugar and gold and was a valuable trade partner to those the inhabitants deemed trustworthy. Run by a beloved monarchy, Altea thrived in relative secrecy, thanks to its obscure location and reserve regarding global affairs. Well, that’s what it said in the travel brochures.  
…

“Queen Allura, the Galra have taken the stronghold in Balmera. If they take Arus, I’m not sure how much longer we can hold out!”

The Queen grimaced at the news as she stalked down the palace hallways, her aide scurrying along behind her. The palace was abuzz with activity, despite the early hour as people prepared for the day to come. She dodged a servant carrying a teetering pile of plates with a wan smile, then turned her head to Coran as she continued her way through the hallway.

“What of our troops in Balmera?”

“No word, ma’am. We just received a transmission from our spy in the Galras’ ranks that the fortress had fallen. But… I’m not hopeful.”

“Then it is time.” Allura closed her eyes and allowed herself a moment of pain before she shut it out again, throwing open the doors to her brother’s bed chambers a moment later. “Lance!”

The figure curled up on the gigantic bed in the middle of the room started, then sat up, rubbing at its eyes as it did so. 

The boy frowned as Allura neared, stifling a yawn as he took in her frantic expression and the sombre face of the palace staff filing in behind her.

“Allura? What’s going on?”

There was a slight pause as the siblings looked at each other, the dark expression on Allura’s face warning Lance that perhaps he didn’t want to know the answer.

“Balmera has fallen, Lance.” The Queen said gravely, and Lance’s mouth fell open in shock.

“What?”

“The Galra have overrun the city.”

“What about the fortress? The- the troops-”

“I don’t know. All we have been told is that Balmera is no longer under our control, and that the Galra are one step closer to over throwing us. They are advancing on Arus as we speak. It’s time, Lance.”

Lance frowned for a moment, then jolted as realisation hit.

“No, I-” Lance jumped out of bed, waving away a servant who darted forwards to offer him a robe. The young prince stood, shivering slightly, in his thin silk pajamas, staring at his sister with pleading eyes. “Allura, I know I said I would go, but I- you need me here. I can’t leave you.”

“You have to, Lance.” Allura stepped forwards to lay a hand on Lance’s shoulder, sadness etched upon every premature line on her face. The servants in the room averted their eyes. “We need you to stay safe. I need you to stay safe.”

“But what if something happens?” Lance whispered, his hands reaching up to take the hand on his shoulder and press it between his own, silently begging. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you- or anyone else- and I wasn’t here to stop it. I can’t leave- please don’t make me leave.”

Allura closed her eyes and tugged Lance into an embrace, pressing a hand softly into the back of his head as they held each other. Lance shook slightly, and Allura heard him stifle a sniff. She tried to hold back her own tears.

“You have to. You have to stay safe. Altea needs a leader.” Lance jumped back, fire in his eyes as Allura’s words processed. The Queen dismissed the present servants with a wave of her hand and they hurried from the room. Coran stayed quietly in a corner, watching the Queen. She regarded Lance with tiredness but was resolute in her decision.

“You’re Altea’s leader! You! Not me, not Coran- not Zarkon! That’s what this bloody war is all about. You have the right to the throne and if the Galra think differently they can all go to hell. If anyone should leave and stay safe, it’s you- you’re the Queen. We need you, you have to rule! I’m staying.”

“Lance, please,” Allura walked towards him, her hands out pleadingly, but he avoided her gaze. “Everything’s arranged. We’ve packed for you, you have somewhere to stay, we’ve made sure you’ll be safe. I promise you can come back as soon as it’s safe again here, but for now you have to go.”

“No!” Lance cried, tears filling his eyes. He ran towards his sister and pulled her into him, burying his face in her shoulder as he gripped her tightly. “I can’t leave you. You can’t make me.”

Allura’s eyes met Coran’s, and he began to slowly walk forwards, reaching silently into his pocket. Lance didn’t notice, still crying silently and hugging Allura. Her hands came to rest tenderly on his back for a moment, pressing her face into the top of his head and gripping her to him for a fleeting moment. She closed her eyes and prayed, prayed to everything that they’d see each other again soon. She opened her eyes again and saw that Coran was in position behind Lance, his eyes full of regret, but steady. Allura swallowed and steeled her resolve, pushing at Lance’s shoulders so that he pulled away from her slightly and looked up.

“Lance, I love you.”

“I love you too,” Lance breathed, hope in his face, hope that she’d let him stay and they wouldn’t be parted. But then he saw the look on her face and he tensed, sensing the presence of Coran behind him. He tried to pull away, but Allura had his shoulders in an iron grip, and then Coran was holding something in front of his face. There was a sickly-sweet smell clouding his head and weighing down his limbs. He cried out and struggled, but Coran pressed the rag tighter over his nose and mouth and the world was getting darker. Tears filled Allura’s eyes as he looked at her with betrayal even as his eyes pulled closed.

Lance’s knees buckled and Allura reached out to hold him as his entire body relaxed, blue eyes firmly shut and entirely dead to the world. Coran held the cloth over his face for a moment longer, just to make sure, then removed it and let Allura hug her brother’s limp form. She sank to her knees, cradling him in her lap and staring at his face, with tears streaming down her own.

“You did the right thing, your majesty.” He told her quietly, putting the cloth back in his pocket. Allura sniffed and reached out to sweep some of Lance’s hair out of his eyes. She rocked slightly, swaying their bodies as if to comfort- but she wasn’t sure exactly who she was comforting.

“I know. I know- he’ll be safer away from here. I’m going to miss him, though.”

“We all will, your majesty. But I’m afraid we have to move quickly if he is going to be out of the country but nightfall.”  
Allura nodded, and Coran took that as a sign to let the other servants back in. They hurried around the room, packing the last few details Lance would have noticed if they’d taken beforehand. Allura held onto her brother until the last possible moment, until someone gently prised him from her fingers and carried him away to the car that would lead him to the airport. When he was gone, Allura swallowed a couple of times, staring at the floor, not noticing the servants pretending not to see her crying. She gave herself a moment longer to grieve, then wiped her eyes and stood up, squaring her shoulders.

“Let’s go.”  
…

Lance came to slowly, a resolute buzzing in his head as the world swam into focus. Everything ached and even lifting his eyelids was a monumental effort. He swallowed thickly, his tongue dry as sandpaper, then started upright as his surroundings came into view.  
He was lying on a leather sofa, in the centre of an airy living room. The air was hot and dry and dust motes swirled in the beam of bright sunlight streaming in through the nearby window, the curtains half-closed. The ceiling above him was structured with wooden beams, the floor below him covered in a shaggy rug. There were bookcases either side of him, and a large TV in the corner.

Not exactly scary surroundings, but terrifying in that he didn’t recognise them at all.

His breathing sped up as he threw off the thin blanket that had been strewn over him, and pushed himself off the sofa. His body screamed at him but he ignored it as he tried to remember what had happened to him. Lance remembered Allura, remembered her coming into his bedroom that morning (or yesterday? How long had he been out?) and telling him the Galra had taken over Balmera. Then she’d said he had to leave and he’d refused. Then… nothing. 

Lance swallowed again, making his way on shaky legs towards the door on the opposite side of the room. He leaned heavily on the wall as he walked over, not trusting his own legs to support him. He reached out a tentative hand for the doorknob, just as a hand gripped it from the other side and pushed the door open.

Lance gave a yelp as the door swung towards his face, wobbly knees giving out in shock and he fell gracelessly backwards onto the hardwood floor. A figure stood in the doorway, gazing down at him with an inscrutable expression.

“Oh. You’re awake.” The figure said, and Lance frowned. He didn’t recognise the person or their voice. It was a male, and he sounded young, maybe Lance’s age. Lance didn’t say anything, but lay propped up on his elbows, staring up at the boy, totally at a loss. Hard eyes looked warily into his own and the other boy shifted slightly, as if Lance’s staring made him uncomfortable. There was silence for another moment as the boys regarded each other. “Um, are you gonna lay on the floor all day or can you get up? You’re kinda in the way.”  
Lance frowned, then pushed himself into a standing position. The other boy didn’t seem hostile or dangerous, only slightly stand-offish. He straightened up, and noticed to his slight satisfaction that he was slightly taller than the stranger.

“Where am I?” He questioned, his voice crackly and quiet. “Where is Allura? Who are you?”

The other boy looked at him in silence for a beat, then moved past him further into the room. Lance watched him warily, heart thudding in his chest. The boy walked over to the sofa where Lance had woken up and picked up the blanket from where Lance had tossed it onto the floor a moment ago. The prince frowned again, trying not to freak out. The boy’s unhelpfulness was starting to get on his nerves.

“Didn’t you hear me? Where am I? I want to talk to Queen Allura!”

The stranger turned to him and leaned back against a table, folding his arms around the blanket and looking Lance up and down. Lance shivered slightly, then noticed to his annoyance that he was still in his pajamas. He wanted to walk closer to the other boy, maybe intimidate him into talking, but something told him it wouldn’t work. Plus, the other boy looked like he was thinking, hard. Lance crossed his arms over himself, narrowed his eyes, and waited.

“You’re in Texas.” The stranger said after a moment, apparently having looked at Lance enough. He dragged his eyes up to meet Lance’s as the Altean boy staggered slightly in shock. Lance opened his mouth, but the other boy cut in before he could speak. “As in, Texas, USA.  
Queen Allura is still back in your country.”

Lance’s heart sunk, and he leaned back against the wall behind him in defeat. Allura was resourceful, he’d give her that. He brought a hand up and scrubbed it over his face, trying not to let the other boy see his emotions. He pressed a finger and thumb into his eyes, willing himself not to cry. His head was still buzzing. He breathed shallowly for a moment, then pulled it away, looking back at the other boy who was regarding him silently with an unreadable face.

“And? Who are you?” His voice cracked with emotion slightly, but they both pretended not to notice. His heart felt like it was speeding up, the day’s events pressing heavily on his chest.

The boy was silent for another moment, then he opened his mouth to speak.

“My name is Keith Kogane.” The buzzing in Lance’s head was getting louder, his heartbeat thumping in his ears. His breath came shallowly and he shivered again in his thin clothes.

The boy, Keith, looked at him in concern. Lance couldn’t read his expression and turned away, running a hand through his hair as he tried to think.

He wasn’t in Altea. He was in America. Allura had sent him away because the Galra were… what were the Galra? Were they winning? As prince, Allura had kept him relatively informed of the affairs of the war, but he’d never been privy to the finer details. Allura hadn’t thought it necessary, and he hadn’t minded too much at the time, but now he was regretting it. Balmera was a stronghold, a key strategic piece in the monarchy’s defences and its loss was devastating- but was losing Balmera enough of a win for the Galra that the monarchy would fall? Lance didn’t know.

He didn’t know how long he’d been gone either. He gulped as he stared out of the window, the sight of a large, sun-kissed expanse of fields turning blurry as his head swam. Were the Galra at Arus? Had they reached the castle? Was everyone okay- was Allura even still alive?  
A sob fell out of the prince’s mouth before he could stop it, and he brought up a hand to massage his chest, trying to get more air into his lungs. Lance knew he was breathing too fast, knew his head was turning dizzy but there was nothing he could do about it. There was nothing he could do about anything. Here he was, thousands of miles away from his home, the war, his friends, his sister- the only family he had left- and he couldn’t do anything about a damn thing.

His breaths were coming in gasps now, and the stranger behind him seemed to notice.

“Uh, hey, are you okay?” His voice sounded nervous, and Lance wanted to laugh. This kid was supposed to be helping him, right? Protecting him? Great. Couldn’t even handle a panic attack.

He made a choked noise, and heard tentative footsteps approaching, almost inaudible over the noise in his head. Lance’s knees shook, his chest screaming at him to breathe.

“Where’s the- the door?” He gasped, turning to face Keith, who was looking at him in thorough confusion.

“What?”

“The door. To- the outside.”  
Keith frowned, reaching out a hand to lay it on his shoulder, but Lance batted it away.

“Why do you want to know?”

Lance groaned, a strangled, frustrated, desperate noise, and darted past the other boy towards the living room door. He threw it open and found himself in a wood-panelled hallway, a couple of doors on either side. Gasping, he ran down it, pulling them open until doing so found him the exit. Bright sunlight streamed through the front door, and Lance shuddered with relief. He could hear Keith calling after him as he ran out onto the front porch, then leapt on shaking legs onto the grass at the front of the house. 

“Hey, you- you should stay inside,” Keith called from behind him, footsteps thudding on the porch as he ran after him. Lance didn’t listen, his legs pounding on the hard ground as he ran, ran from the unfamiliar boy in the unfamiliar house and the unfamiliar feeling of pain and loss and uselessness in his chest.

He only got a few hundred metres before his legs gave out and he fell onto all fours, chest heaving. His body screamed at him for air, his muscles still stiff and tired from whatever Coran had knocked him out with. The world was getting dark again, his vision swimming. Running footsteps caught up with him as he sobbed, and he dimly saw feet at the edge of his vision.

“Hey, hey, come on, it’s okay,” the stranger’s voice was barely audible over all the noise in his head. He saw Keith kneel down, and then there were hands on his shoulders. Lance was pulled upright so he was kneeling up, his hands on his chest as if doing so would make him able to breathe again. He gazed pleadingly at Keith, who looked slightly terrified. “You’re okay, yeah? Um, why don’t you breathe with me, okay? In, out.” He made exaggerated breathing motions, the movements slow. Lance nodded slightly, forcing his lungs to work and his brain to focus on the boy in front of him. It took a couple of minutes, but eventually his heart slowed down and he blinked the blurriness out of his eyes.

“In…. out…. In…. out….”

The world was clearing, his head quietening. Oxygen rushed into the boy’s lungs as the panic left him, and he released his hands from his chest to fall onto his knees. Keith didn’t stop with the breathing, and didn’t seem to have noticed that his hands were still on Lance’s shoulders.

“In…. out…. In-”

“Okay, we’re good now,” Lance interrupted, his voice quiet. Keith seemed to jump slightly, then pulled his hands back off Lance suddenly, as if burned.

“Oh, right. Okay.” 

There was a pause as neither boy seemed to know what to say. Lance took the opportunity to look around, taking in the sunny fields and vast expanse of ranch land. There were mountains in the far distance, and some sort of cattle grazing in the foothills. It was pretty.

“So, uh, you okay?” Lance’s attention was pulled back to the boy in front of him. Keith fidgeted slightly, not meeting Lance’s gaze as the prince really looked at him for the first time. His eyes were dark, slightly purple in the sunlight and they were framed by long, dark lashes. His skin was pale, despite the beaming sun, and his long, black hair fell down across his face. He was pretty, too. 

Lance clenched and unclenched his fists where they rested on his knees.

“Yeah. I’m okay.”

Keith looked relieved, as if the act of talking him out of a panic attack had been physically exhausting.

“Good.”

There was another pause.

“Um, thanks.” Lance offered after a moment, watching as Keith jumped again.

“Er, no problem.”

God, this had to be the most awkward, stilted conversation ever. Lance was almost praying for death.

“Do you wanna go back inside?” The shorter boy asked, standing up and dusting his hands off on his trousers before offering one to Lance.  
He took it, and was relieved that his knees didn’t wobble when he stood. Lance shoved his hands into the pockets of his now-dirty pajamas and nodded.

He followed Keith back into the big ranch house without another word, but inside he was busy plotting and planning. He’d go along with this for the first couple of days- pretend he was planning on staying. He’d find out who Keith was and what his connections with Altea were, whilst planning his escape in the meantime. Then he’d find a way to get back to Allura and Altea, whether Keith helped him or not. Lance had to get back, he couldn’t stand not being able to help. Yes, he’d get back, no doubt about it.

There was no way he was staying here for long.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy howdy do I use a lot of commas. Anyhow, here's number two! This chapter is literally like 90% dialogue and exposition so apologies for that, but it's probably information that'll turn out to be important or whatever. As always, cheers to Nicole for yelling at me to motivate me to finish this, I hope you all enjoy (also I'm drunk whilst editing this so please ignore typos and the like)

“Alright,” Keith said as he sat down next to Lance at the large wooden table in the living room, “do you want to explain to me what exactly is going on?”

Confused, Lance stared at him.

“What?”

Keith shifted in his chair.

“Well, I mean, I know who you are, and that you’re here for your own protection and stuff, but honestly, with regards to everything else, I’m still kind of at a loss.” He fiddled with his fingers as he spoke, and Lance frowned.

“Where do you want me to start?” He wrapped his hands round the warm mug of tea Keith had set down in front of him. He was wearing some of the clothes he’d found in one of the bags Allura had sent with him, so at least he was more comfortable than before. Keith shrugged.

“Why not the beginning?”

Lance chewed on his lip- the beginning, huh? That could take a while. But there wasn’t anything better to do, so he opened his mouth and began to speak.

“Okay, well I’m the Crown Prince of a Southern American country called Altea.”

“Never heard of it.”

Lance chuckled.

“That’s kind of the point.”

Keith frowned. “What do you mean?”

“It’s not exactly a big country, so obviously our military’s less than stellar. But there are lots of gold mines, and the ground’s really fertile and stuff, so we’re really quite rich. Obviously, the land would be a great asset to any larger countries, like America for example, and if they wanted to invade we’d be pretty much powerless to stop them. So we keep ourselves to ourselves, and only trade with countries we have strong links with and we know won’t take advantage of us.”

“Makes sense.”

“Yeah, anyway, so obviously it’s run by a monarchy, but there are a number of people that help Allura make decisions and stuff, and they’re elected. This makes sure that the people sort of get a chance to help choose who’s in power, you know? I think it’s a pretty good system, it’s always peaceful and political disputes and stuff just don’t really happen.”

“Sounds ideal,” Keith grunted, looking mildly impressed. “So where did this war come from, then?”

Lance sighed and stared out of the window. 

“Well, a couple of generations ago, the Queen had twins. Two boys. Alfor and Zarkon. Obviously, only one could ascend to the throne eventually, and it was set to be Alfor, as he was technically born first. Zarkon seemed to be pretty much fine with this, until he was around twenty, I think? That’s when things started going wrong. He was being kept more and more out of the loop- Alfor had responsibilities and duties he didn’t, but obviously he got some honours and benefits and stuff. But he did have his own political views, which he publicised in a way he perhaps shouldn’t have, he clashed with the government on a number of major issues. This wasn’t exactly good for the public, to see a potential ruler of the country wanting to change so many things, so Alfor and their parents did as much as they could to keep him as quiet as possible. But by this time, the King and Queen were getting older, so Alfor was running the country more and more, and Zarkon didn’t like that. He wanted to be part of the government, so he went up for an advisory post, as only the current monarch and the heir are really allowed to be in charge, if you get me? He wanted to be able to make decisions in a way he couldn’t as only second in line to the throne. Anyway, he went up for election, and he didn’t get it. Like, he really didn’t get it, if you know what I mean.”

“Bet he didn’t like that,” the other boy murmured.

“No he did not,” Lance grimaced. “He had his own agendas, and he disagreed pretty heavily with the way his parents and brother were running things. He had some followers of his own by this point, and there was some pretty bad blood brewing between him and his brother. I think losing the election was the final straw- he left the palace and went to live with some of his followers- they called themselves the Galra. I have no idea what that means. They should really work on their naming skills if they want it to have an effect. ‘Galra’ just ends up confusing everyone.” Lance caught the impatient look on Keith’s face and got back on topic hurriedly. “He disappeared for a few years, and eventually the old King died and Alfor rose to the throne. He found himself his own Queen, and they gave birth to a daughter- the next heir to the throne. But then, Lion King-style, Zarkon reappears to stake his claim to the throne. Obviously, Alfor’s daughter was next in line, but Zarkon reckoned he deserved a shot. Alfor denied him, but then Zarkon said that if he wasn’t given the throne, he’s make things, um, difficult. Again, Alfor said no- because he knew his brother was bat-shit by this point, and so Zarkon basically declared war on him. His Galra followers were growing in ranks- apparently there were quite a few people in Altea who thought we should be using our financial power to exploit larger countries for money and land, and weren’t content with living peacefully as a small nation. Alfor mobilised the troops against the Galra, who were beginning to riot and just cause issues everywhere, and they’ve been fighting ever since.”

Keith had been listening quietly as Lance spoke, but now he frowned.

“This was years ago, right? Well what happened recently- like, why are you only here now?”

“Allura is Alfor’s daughter.”

There was a pause.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So… what happened to Alfor? And Zarkon?”

Lance looked down at his hands, then took a long drink of his cooling tea. He breathed deeply before responding.

“Dad- Dad died about eight months ago.”

Keith was silent again.

“He was- he was visiting one of the towns in the countryside, to y’know, keep up morale and stuff. The Galra were getting stronger, taking over more land. By force. People were getting nervous, they wanted to know that we’d be keeping them safe. It was going pretty well, everyone seemed happier. We hadn’t heard anything new about the Galra in a couple of weeks, and we seemed to be keeping them at bay in most places. Dad had just finished giving a speech in the main square when the house behind him exploded. We were blown-”

“Wait, we?” Keith interrupted, and Lance grimaced again.

“Yeah, I went with him. I wanted to do what I could, you know? I’m not heir to the throne so I can’t make executive decisions or whatever, but I’m still the Prince. I need to do what I can to help my people.”

There was a mumbled “Oh,” and Lance ploughed on.

“Well we were all sort of blown backwards, and suddenly there were Galra soldiers on the surrounding rooftops. They didn’t say anything, they just started shooting into the crowd. Everyone ran for cover, except for me and Dad. He, he wasn’t moving, so I crawled over to him and he-” Lance paused to scrub his sleeve over his face. He swallowed a few times, trying to clear the lump in his throat which was choking his voice. Keith stayed quiet. “He, uh didn’t have a pulse.”

Keith gave Lance a moment to recover, staying quiet. A fly buzzed loudly against the window, Lance’s breathing slightly hoarse.

“I’m sorry,” the other boy whispered after a while. He was looking at Lance with an odd sort of intensity, like he wanted to punch something and hug him simultaneously. Lance gave him a wan smile.

“Thanks.”

“Why, uh, why didn’t you run? You know, when the Galra arrived?” He asked nervously.

Lance chuckled grimly, then reached down to roll up the leg of his trousers. Keith leaned over the table to look at what the other was trying to show him, then sucked in a sharp breath when his eyes were met with the coldness of plastic. Lance tapped the prosthetic, “Meet Poppy. The explosion was right behind me, and some sort of shrapnel or debris or something went straight through.”

“Poppy? As in… Poppy the prosthetic?”

“Bingo.” Lance flashed a smile.

“Nice,” Keith mumbled, Lance’s relative casualness making him less guilty about asking.

“Yeah. The Galra must have thought I was done for, because they disappeared as soon as everyone had run for cover. Plus, they’d got what they came for.” His last words were a whisper, emotion choking his voice again. He paused for a second, collecting himself, then continued with the story. “So Allura’s coronation arrives and who should show up but Zarkon- well, a video. Someone hacked the technology in the palace so every screen is showing this video he sent us. I won’t bore you with the details but it basically amounts to this: give Zarkon the throne and he’ll stop being a dick.”

Taken by surprise, Keith snorted some of his tea out of his nose and Lance watched with amusement as his host choked and spluttered.

Eyes streaming, Keith stared at Lance. “He said that?”

A smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, Lance shrugged. “I may have paraphrased a bit, but that’s the general gist of it. Allura was seriously considering it- she’s twenty two, you know? She was never one to let royalty get to her head or whatever, she was never desperate for the crown like he was, and if she gave Zarkon the throne, he’d stop killing people, right? To her, it seemed like an easy choice. But we’d placed a spy in the Galra ranks a few months previously, and he told her it would be an awful idea- like giving in to terrorists. And Zarkon’s a traitor now, isn’t he? I mean, he killed the King. And his extremist ideas had only developed since he ran away from the palace, and he’s a lot keener on expanding the military and the empire than he is the wellbeing of the people. It wasn’t easy, but we convinced Allura to take the throne and take the fight to Zarkon. Surprisingly enough, he wasn’t keen on that and basically declared war on us again- I’m not too sure exactly how that works, declaring war twice, but basically he got more intense and bloodthirsty and stuff. He took over towns and cities, his soldiers infiltrating corporations and turning people against each other.” Lance paused, thinking hard. A sour expression crossed his face. “It got pretty dark. We knew there were Galra everywhere, and our spy in the ranks couldn’t contact us all the time so we couldn’t tell where they were going to strike next.

“This is mad,” Keith murmured. The other boy looked up at him, confused. 

“What is?”

“This,” he gestured emphatically at Lance. “Altea. Zarkon. The war- all this crap’s going down in a country no-one’s ever heard of, and no-one can do anything to help. What about the countries you trade with? Couldn’t you ask them for help?”

Lance shrugged, his throat slightly dry from talking too much. He took a sip of his lukewarm tea. “We don’t trust them any more. Coran reckons they’ve got Galra at all the trade outposts.”

“Coran?”

“Allura’s advisor. He was the King’s before, he’s the epitome of trustworthy so basically anything he says goes. Plus, it concurred with what the spy said, so,” he shrugged again. Keith nodded.

“So why are you here?” 

Lance heaved a sigh and told Keith what had happened between himself and Allura that morning. He listened patiently, and nodded when Lance told him how they’d knocked him out and he’d woken up here, then pretended not to notice how Lance’s knuckles turned white where they gripped his mug, and how his eyes grew shiny and his voice croaked. They were quiet again once Lance had finished speaking, until the Prince furrowed his brows and looked up at Keith.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand, though.”

“Hmm?”

“Why am I here?”

“What do you mean?”

Lance gestured at Keith. “Why am I here and not in some ambassador’s office, or with a Witness Protection Program, or something? What exactly do you have to do with all this? Who even are you?”

Keith raised an eyebrow, and Lance flushed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that to sound rude.”

Keith waved his words away with an airy hand.

“Don’t worry about it. But honestly, I’m not entirely sure, myself. All I know is, I got a call from my brother a few weeks ago, telling me that someone important was in danger and I might have to look after them for a while. Then yesterday this woman called me and told me she was the Queen of this country called Altea- I Googled it, turns out it’s a real place- and that the Prince was in danger and it was imperative that I take him in. She said she knew my brother, and obviously it concurred with what he’d said, so I said okay.” Keith shrugged. “Then yesterday this big black van pulled up outside, this guy came out and dumped you on my couch, said ‘we’ll be in touch’ and drove away.”

“Bloody hell.” Lance muttered. 

“Pretty much,” the shorter boy agreed, getting up and emptying the last of his tea into the kitchen sink. “But I’ve got nothing better to do, so I guess you’re staying here for a while. Plus I trust my brother to the ends of the Earth, and you haven’t tried to kill me or anything yet, so I guess you can stay.”

Lance’s head was beginning to hurt again. He slumped down in his chair as Keith sat back down opposite him again, massaging his temples. It was a lot to take in for Keith, he knew, but he also felt a little out of his depth. “What does your brother have to do with this, then? Who is he?”

Keith’s eyes darkened for a moment, then flickered back to normal. Lance would have regretted asking, but he was confused as hell and needed some answers.

“Shiro’s a soldier. He works for governments all over the world. I guess I can tell you this because you’re a Prince and stuff, but he works for an agency called the Garrison which has connections in every country on the planet- which I’m now guessing includes Altea. He’s specialised, a top fighter, very loyal and brave, et cetera. He gets called out to work for countries- he never tells me exactly what he has to do, but it pays well and he always comes home, so,” Keith shrugged and Lance tilted his head, piecing things together in his head. “He went on a job about ten months ago now, wouldn’t tell me where it was, which wasn’t unusual. But then he called me while he was still away- that was unusual, and he told me about you, I guess. Haven’t heard from him since.” He furrowed his brows, and Lance took a deep breath, leaning forwards.

“Shiro, yeah?”

“Yeah, why?”

Lance sighed again.

“That’s not short for Shirogane, is it?”

Keith started, then stared at Lance like he’d seen a ghost.

“How- how did you know?”

Lance wanted to hit something. This wasn’t fair- how was he supposed to tell Keith this? Boy, Allura sure knew how to make his life interesting.

“Takashi Shirogane, he’s our spy. In the Galra.” Keith paled, and Lance pressed on. “I’ve heard Allura talking about him, and to him, over the transmission line. I was never told much about him, just that he was a top soldier and he was the best man for the job. All the info he’s ever given us has panned out, he’s doing a great job, apparently.” He joked slightly, wanting to get the look of horror off Keith’s face.

“Shiro’s working undercover with the Galra?” Keith whispered, his eyes hard. “As in the people who are wreaking havoc on an entire country,  
killed its King and blew your leg off?”

Lance winced.

“Apparently.”

“Jesus Christ.” Keith groaned, pushing himself up and walking a few steps away, keeping his back turned to Lance. The Prince looked down at the table, an unhappy feeling roiling in his gut. He had nothing to feel guilty about, he knew that, but now he was worried about Takashi- Shiro. Obviously, he’d cared about the spy’s wellbeing before, but mostly for his country’s sake. But now it was for Keith’s sake- the boy he’d only known for the better part of an hour, had opened his home to him (at his own personal risk) and was now the only person Lance had left. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it when no words of comfort came to him.

He felt entirely useless. He’d been sent away from his country, away from his home because he couldn’t do anything to help and he needed to be kept safe. Now he was here, and he could do even less to help. He couldn’t even think of a way to get back, short of robbing Keith and buying himself a plane ticket. But he knew not many airports had flights to Altea, so that was a pretty crap plan. And now Keith was scared for his brother’s life, because his own country was putting him in terrible danger, and Lance couldn’t do anything to appease his fears or comfort him. 

This was turning out to be a great day.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered uselessly. Keith whipped round to stare at him and he shrunk slightly in his seat at the look on the other boy’s face. Keith ran a slightly shaking hand through his messy black hair, breathing heavily. Eyes following the movement, Lance waited for him to speak.

“It’s not your fault,” he replied softly, walking back over and slumping down in his chair.

“I- I know, but still-”

“How old are you?” The other boy interrupted, giving him a searching look.

“Me? S-seventeen,” Lance stammered, utterly bemused by the turn the conversation had taken. “I’m eighteen in a couple of months.”

Keith smirked. “Ha, I’m older than you. I was eighteen last week.”

Lance frowned. 

“Great. Uh, what does that have to do with anything?”

Keith made a non-committal gesture, drumming his fingers on the table top. “You’re just a kid. You’re too young to feel responsible for any of this. It’s not your fault- like you said, Allura was the one who posted Shiro there, and it was his choice to go in the first place. You didn’t choose for any of this to happen.”

“Oh,” the Prince mumbled, looking down at the table. “I guess. I’m still sorry, though.”

The other boy waved his words away with an airy hand, his shoulders relaxing. “Shiro’s gonna be fine. He’s tough, and good at his job. Plus, it’ll be kinda cool knowing my brother saved a country or whatever. He never usually tells me what he does when he goes away, so at least now I’ve got an in. Maybe we’ll get knighted after this is all over.”

“Well we don’t actually have knighthoods in Altea, but I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Perfect.”

The boys smiled sheepishly at each other for a moment, before something occurred to Lance. He stood up, walked round the table to stand next to Keith and stuck out his hand. Keith looked at the offered hand, bemused.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, I may not be in Altea anymore,” Lance began, “but I’m still a Prince, and Allura would kill me if I forgot my manners.” The other boy raised an eyebrow, but didn’t interrupt. “So here goes- hi, I’m Prince Lance McClain-Alforson of Altea, Lord of Arus and next in line to the Altean throne. But you can call me Lance.”

Standing up and smiling, Keith took Lance’s outstretched hand with a chuckle.

“Nice to meet you Lance, Prince of Altea, Lord of, uh, wherever. My name’s Keith Kogane. But you can call me Keith. You’re not expecting me to bow or anything, are you?”

Chuckling, Lance took back his hand and shoved it into a pockets, laughing as he said, “no, no. A curtsey will do.” A full-blown belly laugh escaped him when Keith stuck his tongue out at him, and there was a quiet air of comfort surrounding them that Lance hadn’t felt since Allura had woken him up so many hours ago.

“You’re very casual, I must say,” he commented, as he and Keith took their seats again. When Keith raised an eyebrow, he continued, “I mean, I am a Prince. Most people would be bowing and “your Highness”-ing all over the place, if you know what I mean.”  
The other boy shrugged. “You’re pretty casual too. Other than when you’d just woken up and were asking where you were, you haven’t exactly been commanding or Prince-ly.”

“Well you had just almost hit me in the face with a door,” he pointed out, and Keith chuckled again.

“Oh yeah, sorry about that.”

“I’m sure I’ll forgive you eventually.”

Keith paused for a second, looking like he was thinking. “Do you- should I- I mean, do you want me to be, like, should I treat you like royalty? I’m kind of out of my depth here.”

Lance snorted. “No, God, no. It’s refreshing, believe me. This is… this is fine.”

“Oh.” Seeming relieved, Keith relaxed his shoulders. “That’s good. I’m not sure I’d be very good at the whole grovelling thing, but then again, I don’t wanna get executed for treason or whatever.”

The Prince snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, no grovelling necessary. You’re doing Altea a massive favour here, and I’m gonna try and help out as much as I can while I’m here.” Lance hoped Keith wouldn’t notice he said ‘Altea’ instead of ‘me’, as he was pretty much planning on leaving as soon as he saw an opportunity. But Keith looked pleased, so he pressed on. “I am kinda tired, though, so if it’s alright with you I think I’ll go to bed for a bit.”

Nodding, Keith stood up from the table and collected Lance’s mug, walking over to the sink as he spoke.

“Yeah, that’s fine, your room’s just down the hall.”

“I have a room?”

Keith turned to look at him, a sarcastic tone evident in his voice.

“No, you’re just going to sleep on the couch the whole time you’re here. Sound good?” Lance flushed, then he grumbled and pushed himself back from the table, making his way over to lean on the doorframe. 

“Well I woke up on the couch earlier, I just figured, you know.”

He followed Keith out of the room as the other boy spoke.

“That’s only because that’s where the guys put you when they dropped you off earlier,” the dark-haired boy explained. “I would have moved you but I didn’t really think you’d appreciate waking up in some rando’s arms. I didn’t want to risk it.”

“Yeah, I much preferred waking up and being hit in the face by a door by some, quote, ‘rando’,” Lance muttered, but there was no spite behind it.

Turning to pout at him playfully as he pushed through one of the doors Lance had opened earlier, Keith said “Hey, I thought you forgave me for that.”

“I said I would, not that I had. There’s a difference. But you’re pretty much the only person I’ve got to talk to at the moment, so I guess I can’t stay mad at you for long,” he heaved a sigh as Keith ushered him into the bedroom, taking in his surroundings. There were a couple of suitcases on the bed, he presumed his. He had one more small bag in the living room where he’d gotten his clean clothes, and that was pretty much it. Not much in the way of worldly possessions for a Prince, but it’d do. Even if he might have to end up selling some of it in order to buy his way back to Altea.

“How gracious of you,” his host commented, leaning on the doorframe and watching Lance look at the room. “Will this do you, your Highness?”

It took Lance a moment to drag his eyes over to meet Keith’s, his mind preoccupied with escape plans and concerns for his family and friends back home. He swallowed. “Yes. Thank you. This- this will do me fine.”

A small crease appeared between Keith’s eyebrows at the abrupt change in tone. Lance noticed, and backtracked.

“I mean, yeah, this is great- thank you, Keith, really. I appreciate it. Let me know what I can do to help around here,” he insisted earnestly, and Keith looked appeased.

“Well, there’s a lot to do around the ranch, so maybe tomorrow I’ll show you around, teach you the ropes.”

Nodding eagerly, Lance smiled at him.

“That sounds fun. I look forward to it.”

There was a moment of quiet where the two looked at each other, the weight of what they were to each other heavy in the air. Then Keith blinked the moment away and tapped his hands on the doorframe.

“Right. Well. I’ll let you get your rest, uh, Lance. Shall I come wake you up when dinner’s ready?”

“Thanks.”

“Okay, right. Well, have a good nap.” Keith smiled awkwardly, and there was one more charged moment of silence before he turned and shut the door behind him. 

Lance slept like a baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was so much dialogue I'm so sorry. But in the next chapter, we get Lance learning to be a Farm Boy(TM) and he makes a very special friend. Please kudos and comment if you liked it, I thrive on validation (*laughs weakly*) and let me know if there's anything you'd like to see later in this fic. I've got quite a few ideas already, but if you'd love for something to happen I'll see what I can do- and let me know what you've liked so far so I know what I'm doing right! And Happy Valentine's Day- mine was spent home alone eating Domino's and watching Shrek whilst drunk.   
> Come follow me on Tumblr at sharpshooter-mcclain.tumblr.com and yell at me about Voltron and shit


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